


One batch of kanten, one batch of shiratama dango and a pinch of love

by flaminpumpkin



Series: OsaSuna Week [10]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Day 4, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Osamu too for that matter, Pining, Prompt 3: Recipe, SunaOsa Week (Haikyuu!!), cooking together, suna is an idiot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-12 03:01:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28753326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flaminpumpkin/pseuds/flaminpumpkin
Summary: Rintarou has been in love with Osamu for years now and when said man comes over to his apartment to help him learn how to cook, he doesn't know what to do with himself.
Relationships: Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou
Series: OsaSuna Week [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1770460
Comments: 2
Kudos: 86
Collections: SunaOsa Week 2020





	One batch of kanten, one batch of shiratama dango and a pinch of love

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting in my drafts for months and I hate unfinished things so here we go! Also, I really liked the concept I came up with for that day, as unoriginal and cliché it might be so please accept this (kinda really late) contribution to SunaOsa week day 4 prompt 3: Recipe.
> 
> Hope you enjoy! ^^

** Recipe **

** Ingredients: **

**\- 1 handsome best friend with great cooking skills**

**\- 1 rather small kitchen (narrow spaces are always advised for this type of recipes)**

**\- 1 large cup of pining to give some taste**

* * *

**Dorito twin** :

attachement.jpeg

That’s what we’re going to do

I’m not allowing you anywhere near a stove though

Not after you almost set my kitchen on fire

Just buy the kanten powder and the kuromitsu

I have the red bean paste and green tea ice cream done already

 **Me** :

First of all, you’re still on that?

Second of all, what about the fruits?

 **Dorito twin** :

I’ll buy them

I don’t trust you

You might fuck that up too

 **Me** :

Oh come on, I’m not THAT bad

 **Dorito twin** :

Should I reply to that?

 **Me** :

Eat a dick Miya

* * *

** Instructions: **

**\- First, pour the pining in gradually until it is overflowing, obviously overwhelming you.**

Rintarou looked at his kitchen counter top. At the wooden cutting board he’d owned for two years but still looked as good as new since he’d never used it (but he knew Osamu would wring his neck if he dared cutting things directly on his countertop so he’d taken it out of its plastic wrap and washed it especially for this occasion). At the knife he had used for basically everything since he had started living on his own, one that barely cut anything anymore. At the few items Osamu had allowed him to buy.

He’d tried to arrange everything neatly enough to prove Osamu he was serious about this but what exactly can you do with a cutting board, a knife, a bottle of kuromitsu and a box of kanten powder?

A deep sigh escaped his lips and he shook his head, sensing a slight panic take possession of his body. This was really happening. They were really going to cook together. In his tiny kitchen. When Rin had been sporting a crush for his best friend ever since their third year of high school. How incredibly, disgustingly cliché.

Another frustrated sigh.

To be completely fair, everything had been fine at first. Rin was used to have crushes. Aran and this guy from another volleyball team from Hyogo in first year. Kita in second year. Even Atsumu at some point, though he still didn’t understand how his brain could _ever_ find this absolute mess of a human being attractive. He had never really struggled with it, merely choosing to ignore the annoying little tug at his heart when he would catch Kita and Aran stare at each other or when Atsumu would complain for days on end about this guy from U19 which everybody had known meant he’d actually had a crush on said guy. But with Osamu it had been… Different.

At first he had thought it would go away like every other ones, that the simple fact of ignoring it would make it disappear. Unfortunately, he hadn’t taken into account the fact that they’d been best friends and thus, had been spending most of their time together for the past three years. _Foolish little thing I was_ , he thought with a cynical scrunch of his nose. Ignoring feelings while being constantly reminded of them was a hard task. And god knew he hated dealing with these… things.

But avoiding Osamu altogether hadn’t been an option either. First of all, because it would’ve been obvious with how much time they’d spent together and Osamu would have confronted him at some point anyway. Secondly, after a couple of days spent without Osamu because the silver head had been sick, Rin had found himself missing him more than he had expected.

He had missed his calm presence during morning practice, one that never failed to make the grumpiness of seeing too many people so early in the morning dissipate. He had missed him at lunch when he had leaned against Gin to take a nap and it hadn’t felt the same. He had missed him on his way home, when he had stopped to buy two melon pans out of habit, realizing the only reason he had ever eaten it had been because of Osamu and his never ending hunger.

That had been the worst day of his school year. Not even coming down with the flu and feeling like zombie for an entire week had managed to surpass it. Because of course, Osamu had shown up to his place every day with unusually neat school notes and homemade chicken noodle soup. Like the angel in disguise he was.

This was definitely going to end in a disaster. Because years had not made it any better for Rintarou, he had simply learnt how to hide it better.

He ran a hand in his hair with yet another sigh, noticing idly that it was getting quite long now, when the bell to his apartment rang.

**\- Add the handsome best friend in the kitchen, on top of the pining.**

The door opened to reveal Osamu standing there, heavy looking bags in his hands.

He looked handsome in the most casual way, much to Rintarou’s chagrin, with his washed out black Onigiri Miya cap, plain grey shirt and jeans. It took everything Rin had not to grimace in disgust and close the door in his face. Sometimes he really hated his best friend for being so effortlessly attractive and making his life a living hell. But it’s not like he had any choice now so he simply stepped aside, nodding.

“Mornin’ to ya too,” Osamu drawled, giving Rin an amused look as he toed off his shoes. “Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed?”

 _You’re stupid pretty face is what gets me in a bad mood_ , he wanted to say.

“I’m gonna have to deal with your culinary school snob comments for the foreseeable future, that’s why,” is what he said instead.

Osamu let out a laugh at that, deep and rich.

There was something about him these days, Rin thought, squinting before turning on his heels and trudging his way towards the kitchen, hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. Osamu seemed overly joyful recently. It was probably because the Tokyo branch of his restaurant was working so well. Rin still remembered (fondly) how excited his best friend had been the last time he had come over to watch a movie, talking about his business and how well it had been received by “Tokyo folks”.

He was more than happy that Osamu’s business was flourishing, even though it meant he had been spending an awful lot of time in Tokyo and, as an obvious consequence of it, had been visiting Rintarou, who was still desperately trying to get over his feelings for him. Which the sight of Osamu unpacking groceries in his kitchen like he just belonged there really didn’t help. Rin almost wanted to kick him behind the knees for looking so shamelessly good and unbothered while he was over there, trying as hard as he could not to just blurt out that he liked Osamu.

He simply settled for looking over his friend’s shoulder instead, taking advantage of the few centimeters he had on Osamu to peek at what was inside the bag, frowning when he saw flour and eggs.

“What’s the eggs and flour for?”

“Pancakes,” mumbled Osamu, focused on organizing everything while he was unpacking.

“I thought you said I wasn’t allowed near the stove.”

He stopped for a second, glancing over his shoulder to smirk at Rin.

“Well, I could allow ya near the stove since it’s not my apartment and I don’t care if you blow it up but I have some pity fer your neighbors so I’ll be makin’ them.”

Rintarou pretended to be offended this time, actually kicking him behind the knees gently, making Osamu laugh once again as he rounded him to help him unpack only to stall once he opened the bag, eyes going a little wide at its content.

Fruits. Lots of it. Tangerine, strawberries, kiwis, bananas. That was way too much for what they were going to make.

“You bought way too many fruits.”

Osamu almost seemed offended when he looked at him incredulously, taking the bag away from Rin’s limp hands, meticulously taking everything out.

“There’s no such things as too many fruits when ya make anmitsu. You don’t even _need_ to be hungry to eat fruits. I mean…” he trailed off, reaching inside the plastic bag and took out a small basket of strawberries. “Look at these.”

They looked delicious, Rin couldn’t deny it. Just the right size, a bright, saturated red. Those strawberries radiated sweetness and summer. He could probably eat the whole thing without even being hungry.

Damn Osamu for being right.

“Come on, Rin. Just take one. I know you want to.”

And he almost flipped Osamu off and turned around but the strawberries looked way too delicious to pass so he popped one in his mouth.

Then flipped Osamu off.

**\- Let your handsome best friend teach you your way around the kitchen, gently building up a tension by stirring it every once in a while. Bring the tension to a boil and then hastily turn off the stove like the coward you are then leave it unattended for a while to let it rest.**

The door of the refrigerator closed with a soft, quiet sound just as Rin finished whisking the pancake batter, proud of himself as he saw that it was nice and smooth without any clumps. _Not bad for a first time_ , he thought as he turned around to let Osamu check the batter.

“Hey, I’m done.”

“Looks good. Not bad for an amateur.”

“Seriously?”

Osamu chuckled at Rin’s obvious frustration, making his inside twist and tighten with warmth and affection. He really hated him. One smile, one little laugh and he turned into this gooey mess and he hated it.

“No, it looks really good. Now, we just have to let it rest at room temperature for about thirty minutes.”

“It needs to rest?”

His friend stared at him in surprise then, like this was some kind of universal knowledge, but Rin’s next look prevented him from saying anything, probably because of how murderous it was.

He turned around to set the bowl of batter on the counter and put some plastic wrap on it, intentionally not paying any mind to Osamu fussing around behind him in his tiny kitchen, forcing his mind to stay focused on the task at hand and not the little brushes and touches he could feel every time Osamu walked by him.

It’s not like he wasn’t used to it anyway.

Osamu had visited him a lot during the course of the last three months, ever since the Tokyo branch of his restaurant had opened. Sometimes he would come and cook dinner for the both of them. Sometimes he would show up with take-outs from Onigiri Miya and stay the night, having a movie marathon with Rintarou that had always, somewhat, ended with the brunette sitting stiffly on his couch with Osamu sleeping soundly against him, head on his shoulder. Rin loved these nights as much as he hated them because it never failed to leave some kind of bittersweet taste in his mouth.

But what could he do except suck it up and hope it would go away? Not much unfortunately.

It’s with that thought that he started to cut the fruits in what he considered pretty even bite size pieces. Until Osamu checked what he was doing from over his shoulder, letting out a quiet groan at the sight.

“What. Are you. Doin’.”

Rin stopped, knife halfway through a kiwi, partly because of the lack of space between them – he knew he had a small kitchen but that didn’t mean Osamu had to almost glue himself to his back to check on what he was doing – and partly because of the obvious horror in his best friend’s voice.

“I’m cutting the fruits. Like you said,” he answered in a deadpan voice, turning his head only slightly because he knew that Osamu’s was barely ten centimeters away from his and he didn’t want to discover if he could handle the proximity or not. The survival of his fingers was at stake.

“No. Nonono. No. _This_ is not you cutting fruits. _This_ is a massacre.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“I’m really not.”

Then he felt Osamu bump his hip against his lightly, asking for space.

“Move to the side. I’ll show ya.”

Rin rolled his eyes, moving to the side nonetheless.

“Please, oh great Osamu-sama, show us peasants who didn’t go to culinary school how to cut fruits,” he drawled, voice dripping with sarcasm as he bowed his head, presenting the knife to Osamu like an offering.

Osamu delicately took the knife with a huff and started to cut, Rin observing him, leaning his hip against the counter, arms crossed and chin almost resting on his friend’s shoulder (pretty masochistic of him if you asked him but apparently he liked to suffer). First, he cut it in two. Then slices, all identical in size, all perfect, movements fast and precise.

“See? If the tip of your blade doesn’t leave the cuttin’ board, it’s more efficient. And less tiring, depending on what ya are cuttin’,” he explained calmly, voice quiet. “Oh, and don’t put yer index on the blade like you were doing. Ya might think it’s better ‘cause you’re puttin’ more pressure on it, but in the long run, it _will_ feel uncomfortable. And it might weaken the thinnest part of the blade and make it break.”

“Oh.”

“Here. Try.”

Rin stared down at the knife presented to him – handle first, probably like he should have given it to Osamu earlier – and looked back up to find his friend checking the pancake batter, unbothered.

“Show me again.”

This time Osamu’s eyes locked with his, the expression on his face as done as ever.

“Please?”

“You lazy ass,” the raven huffed, turning the knife around in his hand swiftly so he could hold it correctly again. “Ya just want me to do everything.”

Rintarou gave his friend a sly smirk but, to be completely honest, he just liked watching Osamu cook. There was something relaxing to it.

“I’m cutting this one too and then you’ll do the rest. I still have to make the dango.”

The brunette hummed noncommittally, unconsciously shuffling closer to watch Osamu’s deft hands in action.

He just loved watching him at work, watching the way he seemed to move effortlessly, without even putting any thoughts into it, just following muscle memory with an ease that left Rintarou in awe. If Osamu had felt at ease on a volleyball court, in the kitchen he was in his natural element. Everything came to him automatically, his shoulders were relaxed and there was this little smile on his face, this little quirk of the corner of his lips that just screamed “I’m happy”.

He was so absorbed in it that he didn’t even register Osamu was done until he turned to him again to give him the knife back, somehow now even closer to Rin than before. Which only made his treacherous eyes focus on his friend’s lips as he started talking again, barely registering what he was saying, as expected.

“Honestly, it’d be a lot better if ya had a santoku. Although, maybe a smaller knife like a shoso would be better for someone who’s just beginning. It’s shorter and more manageable than a santoku but it still has that nice balancing effect when you cut ‘cause of the blade and- uh… Rin?”

The brunette blinked, focusing on Osamu’s eyes again, meeting his stare. His eyebrow was arched and there was a smile on his face but Rintarou would be damned if he was so easily duped after years of friendship, if he didn’t catch the little flicker of uncertainty in his best friend’s eyes.

“Huh? Sorry, I didn’t catch that.”

Osamu rolled his eyes at his tone.

“Knives. I was talkin’ about knives and how it’d be nice for ya to have a good one. It’d make your life easier.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said louder than necessary after clearing his throat and taking a small step back. “Maybe I’ll invest in a knife if you prove yourself to be a good teacher.”

Thankfully, Osamu took the bait and his pretty grey eyes flashed with mirth.

“Ya better take that back before I whoop yer ass Gordon Ramsay style,” he threatened teasingly with a false air of offence.

And, just like that, the tension in Rin’s body was gone. Teasing, he knew; teasing was what they did all the time. It was safe territory for him, better than that awkward tension from a few moments ago.

Reaching for the handle of the knife extended his way, Rin let a smirk stretch his lips.

“As long as you don’t call me an idiot sandwich.”

The laughter that echoed through his small kitchen then made the brunette grin happily to himself.

Hearing Osamu laugh out loud, without a care in the world, wasn’t that rare these days – if anything, it had become a daily occurrence – but it never failed to make Rintarou feel warm all over, no matter how often he heard it. It wasn’t a graceful laugh, the other man sometimes going as far as snorting when he really lost himself in it, but somehow, it sounded like music to his ears. The thought had made Rin grimace the first time it popped in his mind but now he had long since accepted that he was desperately cheesy like that.

Osamu really did bring the worst out of him.

“Well, don’t push yer luck, then,” said man retorted in a low voice, invading his space again by pushing his face over Rin’s shoulder.

And once again, in the span of mere seconds, the awkwardness returned the brunette’s body, making his shoulders go stiff and his back tense. Damn Osamu for being able to affect him so easily without even trying, he thought as he tried his best to turn to face the counter and push his friend away at the same time. Which worked, if the sudden lack of heat against his side and the distant chuckle were anything to go by.

Everything felt so strangely… domestic to him. And it was probably what hurt him the most in the end, he realized as he slowly began to cut a banana the way Osamu had showed him. Because it gave him an insight of what could be. Of what he could have if he decided to stop overanalyzing everything and just take his chance. But the fear of making it so awkward between them and watch helplessly as his best friend drift away from him kept him from ever opening his mouth and admit how he felt.

Hopefully, one day, being Osamu’s friend would be enough for him. _But not today_ , his conscience supplied when it registered the object of Rin’s affliction standing next to him again. Close – heavenly, torturously close – so he could access the stove and prepare the kanten.

They both worked in silence for a while, Rin trying to relax and enjoy the quiet company despite Osamu’s elbow grazing his arm every few second as he stirred the pot, despite the fleeting feeling of his warm hand on the small of the brunette’s back as he reached around him to take something from the fridge. It almost felt like he was doing it on purpose because every time – every single time – Rintarou glanced his way, he was harboring that this dumb, weirdly proud smile. Not the happy little thing that always graced his face when he was cooking. More of a I-know-exactly-what-I’m-doing kind of manic smirk that only made the brunette frown and tense even more.

“Now, that’s a lot better,” said a gentle voice, once again far too close to his ear for comfort, which made him jump slightly.

Rintarou hoped, he really, stupidly hoped Osamu hadn’t felt that but his chest was nearly touching the brunette’s arm so it was impossible for his reaction to have gone unnoticed. But the other man didn’t say anything. If anything, he simply grinned innocently when Rin turned a murderous glare on him.

“Jumpy today, are we?”

Blood rushed to his face at the teasing tone because for some reasons, this didn’t sound like their usual brand of teasing. It wasn’t the lighthearted, good-natured kind. It felt like provocation and, granted, Rintarou was guilty of this kind of not so innocent type of teasing every once in a while but never with Osamu. Never. Because it would make the thin line between friendship and something else all the more blurry in Rin’s mind.

Exhaling loudly, he set down the knife and took a step away from Osamu. He needed to calm down and assess the situation but being near the other man proved it to be impossible. So he did the only thing he could think of.

“I-I forgot I had to call Yua. I’ll be right back,” he mumbled before fleeing his own kitchen and lock himself up in his bathroom.

**\- Now that it all simmered down, leaving behind an awkward atmosphere, slowly stir to bring up all the flavors of the pining and your true feelings.**

Thirty minutes and a near brain strain later, Rintarou slowly opened the door of the bathroom and made his way towards the kitchen. A nice, enticing scent came floating from the kitchen and he realized Osamu had started on the pancakes.

He looked as relaxed as Rin had left him half an hour earlier, going about his business as unbothered as one could be and if that didn’t enraged the brunette. He wanted Osamu to feel as embarrassed as he had felt because how could he not have realized what he was doing? Rintarou knew his best friend could be dense as rocks but this was a whole other level and he was pretty sure Osamu wasn’t that oblivious.

“I didn’t know “I need to call Yua” was a secret code for “I’m panicking”,” Osamu said offhandedly without turning around as Rin walked into the kitchen part of the main room of his apartment, flipping a pancake.

Rintarou squinted at him, blood pressure rising as he took the two strides separating him from Osamu, firmly planting himself behind the other man, arms crossed. They were having this out, whether he liked it or not. So much for not dealing with his feelings.

“Alright. What is this about, Osamu? What are you trying to do here?

The other man sighed then, lowering the heat of the stove to a minimum before turning around and leaning back against the counter.

“Rin,” he started, stormy eyes boring holes in the brunette’s head. “What do ya think this whole thing is about?”

Rintarou stayed silent, his gaze returning Osamu’s, unflinching.

He didn’t know. He didn’t know what this whole thing was about and it frustrated him. He didn’t _know_ and the fact that he seemed to be the butt of a joke between Osamu and his own mind didn’t make him feel any better.

Osamu sighed again and stood straight, leveling with Rin.

“ _This_ is the most cliché, disgustingly domestic thing I found to spend time with ya and make ya understand. And before ya come for my ass for being a coward,” he said challengingly, raising a hand to interrupt the other man as he started to protest, “look at me straight in the eyes and tell me ya wouldn’t have tried to turn it into a joke and then run away because you’re _that_ afraid of fuckin’ things up between us.”

There was a long pause, Osamu obviously waiting for Rintarou to say anything.

But he couldn’t find anything to say because this was exactly what he would have done if he had been directly confronted about it. A snarky come back, accompanied by a sly smirk and a huff. That would have been his reaction, no matter how much he told himself it wouldn’t. Because Suna Rintarou didn’t like to talk about his feelings. He didn’t like complicated things and he was incredibly lazy.

“I know ya, Rin,” the other man continued when it became obvious Rintarou wouldn’t say anything. “It took me a while to realize it but I know ya and how, for all the overthinking you make, you’re still as dumb as I am.”

Rin snorted at that, adverting his gaze, only looking at his friend when he spoke again.

“So. Alright, that was… Incredibly dumb of me, I admit.”

“Understatement of the year.”

“Oh, shut it. Yer no better.”

“Actually, I think I might be.”

Osamu gave him a look, so obviously done with his snarky behavior Rin decided against doubling down on it because they still weren’t fixed on what was between them yet.

“Why don’t we just both admit we’re idiots, huh? That everythin’ could have gone a lot more smoothly if we weren’t so afraid and just, I don’t know, finish this goddamn recipe and make out afterwards?”

Rolling his eyes, Rintarou huffed before uncrossing his arms and reaching for Osamu’s shirt, grabbing a handful of the soft grey fabric so he could drag him forward.

“Why not make out now?” he purred, eyebrow quirked and lips stretched in a smirk as _he_ invaded Osamu’s space this time.

And there was no floundering on Osamu’s part. No hesitation nor doubt. Just a gentle, oh so tender press of his lips against Rin’s as he circled the brunette’s waist with his arms, pulling him infinitely closer.

(They did manage to finish the recipe in the end but, for the first time in years, Osamu was the one who actually burned something to a crisp while Rintarou laughed.)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> As always, kudos and comments feed my heart and soul so don't hesitate if you want to say anything!


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